Blushing Scarlet
by Veronica Gilbert-Salvatore
Summary: An aspiring actress, with a haunted past, get's the role of a lifetime, her life being flipped upside down overnight; but how does she react when her love interest is Taylor Lautner? How can he make her life right again? Will they fall, or will they be too blinded by the flash of the cameras to see that all that they've ever wanted is right in front of them? Taylor Lautner/OC
1. Chapter 1: Chemistry Read

**Chapter 1: Chemistry Read**

I sneezed into my elbow, my throat burning, as I reached for a tissue on the nightstand of the queen sized bed of our small hotel room. Everyone I'd ever known was back home in Minnesota, while I was in LA after being cast as Nora Grey in the film series of _The Hush, Hush Saga_, missing school for that matter, as well as my job. I'd been cast three months ago, the director saying that I had the "sweet girl image" for the part, when in truth, I didn't care as long as I got to be a part of making this movie; I'd fallen in love with the books instantly when they'd come out. Ever since I'd been told that I got the part, I was reading for auditions for Patch Cipriano, my love interest, ever since, hardly having any time for my school work. It had been going well, in my opinion, until, of course, I caught a severe cold that left the auditions to reading with the directors.

At the very least, they'd narrowed down the search in my absence, just having to go through a few more callbacks and read-throughs. But the entire time that they got everything done, I'd been cooped up in this hotel room that I shared with my manager, Abigail, who also was my temporary caretaker for the moment. She was young for management, but better at it than most experienced managers in Hollywood. She'd tried to make a career of her own since she'd been merely twelve years old, but gave up on it when she figured out that she'd been doing it all wrong at the age of twenty six, that specific detail being that she'd done it without a manager. Her parents had done what they could to help her through her teen years and a bit beyond, but once she reached twenty one, they thought that it might be time to start a realistic career, and just have acting as something on the side; she wasn't having that, knowing that if she wanted to make it work, she'd have to put everything that she had into it, one-hundred percent. She did get some roles, but nothing more than a simple commercial or something, nothing to blow her career up to where it needed to be to become a success. After fourteen years of chasing after a dream that could become nothing more than that itself, she finally got a job as a bank teller in a small town called Detroit Lakes, Minnesota; where she found me two years later.

I'd been fourteen years old, and starring as a supporting role in a local play in our Holmes Theater where she still loved to watch the youth portray stories that she'd watched numerous times, but continued to love every time. She figured that if no one could watch her anymore, then she might as well come and support those that she could. After my minimum amounts of monologue, and brief stage time, I was met backstage by a twenty eight year old woman with her shoulder length blonde hair pulled back into a low ponytail, gathered at the nape of her neck. She smiled brightly at me, offering her hand.

"I'm Abigail," she'd started, shaking my hand.

I'd stared at her, confused, still in costume. My eyebrows furrowed, shaking her hand hesitantly, causing her to chuckle. "I saw your performance tonight, and I must say, you remind me of a much younger version of myself," she continued. "I see something in you, something that needs to shine," she said, laughing at her own cliche.

"Um . . . " I mumbled, unsure of what to say. Most probably wouldn't either if some random woman in her twenties came up to you backstage of a play when she didn't even know your name. "Can I help you with anything . . . ?" I asked lamely, my fingers fidgeting with my costume.

She laughed. "Well, _I _should be the one asking _you _that. I was wondering if you'd ever considered going into show-buisness - professionally, I mean."

I stared at her again, not knowing how to react. Was she offering something? What was she trying to say? I'd only been acting for the past six months since my dad and sister had died . . . "Um, what?"

She smiled patiently. "I was wondering if you'd like to make a career out of this? Have you thought about it?"

Of course I'd thought about it, but hadn't everyone with a dream? You didn't really even have to have a dream of it, most had just thought of it anyway . . . "Well, yeah, but - "

"Then why not? I saw you out there; you love what you do, I can see it. You just wish that someone would recognize it other than those who you have to tell. Lucky for you, I noticed, along with several other audience members," she interrupted me. Could she have been offering . . . no, she couldn't have been, I was inexperienced. "I was wondering if you'd like to start auditioning for small roles - or just shoot for the bigger ones, if that's what you'd prefer - but try to go for things like TV shows, commercials, even movies? You could even do Broadway if you wanted to. I know, that's getting ahead of myself, and I don't want to get your hopes up, because you'll have to get used to hearing the word 'no' in this business, but I see so much potential in even such a small part, I can't even begin to imagine what you'd be like as a lead," she smiled, her eyes years away.

My heart was soaring, my thoughts flying a million miles a minute. She saw acting potential in me, a girl who would show up to school in skinny jeans and high heels, looking like a cry for attention, and then would go and sit in the back corner of a classroom, praying to God that she wouldn't be called on in class, knowing that it'd only draw unnecessary attention to herself. I stared at Abigail disbelievingly, trying to find my voice to speak.

"So are you interested?" she asked, her voice hopeful.

I gave her a slight nod, unable to help the dorky smile that stretched across my lips.

She grinned. "It was nice meeting you . . . " She checked her program. "Lacey. I hope that you get back to me," she said as she handed me a pastel post-it note with seven digits.

I smiled down at it before looking back up to her, finally finding the will to speak. "It was nice to meet you, too, Abigail. Thank you so much, I really appreciate it," I said, my voice filled with gratitude as I turned towards the dressing rooms to change.

That had been the best day of my life, approaching three years ago. She was right; she saw something in me that needed to come out to shine. We always laughed about that, calling it our "secret cliche" whenever we brought it up. Since that day, she graciously accepted the different point of view in the acting world with open arms. I was always asking if she was really okay with the fact that she got to watch _me _live _her _dream, but she always said that that was the very best part; knowing that she made something that hadn't been able to be accomplished for her, possible for someone else. I could tell she still wanted it herself, but she always claimed that I was her priority.

I'd been emancipated for the past year, having lost my mom to pneumonia a year ago when the last person in my family that I had was still around. Both my mom and my dad's sides of the family wouldn't speak to me, claiming that I was a cursed reason for the death of three beloved ones, all three of whom I shared a bloodline with. They weren't going to forgive me, that much was clear.

At the very least, I was able to keep my friends. They were a lot closer to me now than ever, even with all the miles that separated us, they understood what I was going through, and that I needed them more than ever. I always felt bad for one of them, my stunningly beautiful friend, Keira, who always watched my dog, a basset hound named Hampton, whenever I wasn't able to bring him with me, which was a lot, due to the fact that most hotels didn't allow dogs. He was kind of a handful sometimes, always being lazy like his breed was stereotyped to be, and then BOOM; burst of energy. He'd grab a squeaker toy, squeaking it non-stop while running laps throughout the house, several times hip-checking the walls that were always too sharp of a turn for his long body. It was funny, don't get me wrong, but after a while, it just got down-right annoying. And Keira had to deal with that when I was gone.

"Lace? You doing any better?" Abigail asked from the doorway, pulling me out of my reverie.

"Uh, kinda, I guess. I think it might be gone by tomorrow," I confirmed, getting up to go to the bathroom.

She was quick to push me back onto the bed. "Nuh-uh, lay back down. You aren't going to get any better if you keep moving. Just because you got the part, doesn't mean that they can't take it back," she pointed out. She'd basically become my motherly figure since my own was gone. Nothing could ever replace my real mom, but she was a close second.

I rolled my eyes. "Abi, I have to go to the _bathroom_, relax," I smirked weakly as I made my way to the bathroom, shaking my head at her overprotectiveness.

After a day of resting and trying to convince Abigail that I was fine, I settled in for the night, pulling the covers over my body, sniffling as I laid on my side, waiting for unconsciousness to take over.

I woke up to the windows drawn open, a bright blue sky lighting up the hotel room as I squinted, trying to gather my surroundings. I stretched, inhaling deeply; my sinuses were clearer today, my body filled with a little more energy. I was still a little stuffy, and my voice congested, but I could easily answer when Abigail called my name from the bathroom where she straightened her naturally wavy blonde hair.

"Hey, Lace? How you feeling today?" she asked, setting her phone down when I walked in.

I shrugged. "Better. I can do things today, at the very least," I said, sitting on the closed toilet. **(A/N: Yes, I realize that that sounds weird when you read it, but just go with it, we've all done it before.)**

She smiled. "Well, they think that they might've found our Patch, but don't wanna cast him until they know for sure that you two have screen chemistry. You up for a read today?"

I thought about it for a moment before nodding. "As long as there's no _make-out _scenes that we have to do, I think that I'm good," I chuckled.

She laughed. "Well, Start getting ready, we have to be there in an hour."

I nodded, turning on the shower before going to grab what I needed. After quickly washing up, I wrapped a towel around my body, walking to the door to peek out at Abigail. "How much time do I have?" I asked, hoping for the best, knowing that I took unreasonably long showers.

"Twenty minutes, get moving!" she scolded, making a shoo type of gesture with a flick of her hand, her gray eyes urgent.

My eyes widened, rushing to quickly dress, which, I gotta admit, I wasn't putting in as much effort as I normally do, just throwing on a pair of washed-out skinny jeans, with an electric blue camisole under a white V-neck with the _Harley Davidson _logo on it. I stared at my face in the mirror for a moment, noticing how I was paler than usual, no color to my unfortunately round face, which did nothing to work with my hazel eyes that people were always mistaking the color for, nothing of my body matching, very disproportionate. I was short, and got a lot of crap for it all the time, but I learned to accept it . . . as well as the fact that I discovered that I walked good in heels. Even though I barely cleared five feet in height, I still managed to have fairly long legs, but do to the fact that I was curvy in the butt and chest - much to my very awkward dismay - I couldn't seem to ever get anything to fit correctly. I sighed, feeling as if everything had to be custom made some days. My nose was a bit bigger than I'd have liked it to have been. My friends said that it looked fine, but that's what good friends do these days; they lie to you to preserve your feelings, even though you both know that it's a lie; that's just how us teenage girls work.

I did the best I could to get the moisture out of my long, chocolate brown hair, but ended up leaving it a bit damp, so that I could finish sooner, it hanging just low enough to be called long. I didn't have any time for makeup, but I also felt like shit too, so I went without.

I walked out, pulling on a pair of regular black converse as I spoke. "'Kay, I'm ready to go," I said to Abigail.

She nodded, ushering me out the door, to the studio.

* * *

Traffic was hell, I'll admit. We rushed into the room, five minutes late for the read-through.

Abi was quick to defend me. "I am so sorry, this is not Lacey's fault, traffic was awful, and - "

"Don't sweat it, Taylor's not here yet either, so you can relax," Chris, our director said. Christopher Headbrooks was a very laid back man, but knew how to get the job done well. He'd already received several _Oscar _nominations, having won three of them; we were lucky to have him in this production.

"Taylor?" I asked, having no clue who they were talking about.

He smiled knowingly. "He's doing the read-through with you."

I nodded. At least I knew his name. Abigail joined Chris and the rest of the producers in more professional talk while I sat on a plastic chair, bored out of my mind while we waited for this Taylor to come in. I realize that it probably sounded ungrateful of me to say that I was _bored _while everything that I could ever dream of was coming true, but I'm a seventeen year old girl; I get bored, I get distracted, I have hormones - stuff like that happens.

"Oh, there you are. Were you stuck in traffic too?" Chris's voice pulled me out of thought, well, out of staring at the ground, trying to pick out patterns in the speckled, multicolored carpet.

I looked up, nearly falling off my seat, gripping the sides of the chair for support at who walked in.

Patch Cipriano's physical description from the books flashed through my mind; bronze skin, black eyes, dark hair.

God! I'm so stupid! I knew that they said that his name was Taylor, but they failed to mention that it was _Taylor Lautner_!

Memories of my _Twilight _obsession started to flood back to me. I had been out of control. I knew things that no one should ever know about the cast members, had a favorite page in each book, found something _Twilight_-related in just about everything I did, got a reputation for being a _Harry Potter _hater when I wasn't, and chanted "TEAM SWITZERLAND!" at the mere mention at the Team Edward VS. Team Jacob argument. I could go on, but there isn't enough time in the world.

It took me a moment to notice the figure standing in front of me, an easy voice pulling me out of my thoughts. Kind eyes and a gleaming white smile stared down at me. Did he say something? I noticed that his tanned hand was extended to me. I shook it, my hand lost in his grasp, as I tried to gather my thoughts. "I don't always look like this," I blurted out, closing my eyes when I realized that I shouldn't have.

He let out his unusual laugh that I'd heard a million times on _YouTube_, the sound so much more enticing in person. "That's alright. I'm Taylor."

I tried to smile, probably failing to look convincing. I couldn't tell, I was still shaken up. "I'm Lacey, I'm a _huge _fan," I added, my voice still shaky. I prayed to God that he didn't think that I was just another insane fan, even though that's basically how I was; I just didn't want there to be a weird air between us, I mean, there was a chance that I'd have to work with him for the next few years, I didn't want to mess it up by making it awkward. In my peripheral vision, I caught Abigail snickering to some female standing next to her; I made a mental note to kill her later.

He smiled, nearly causing my heart to break. I had to remember that he was _twenty_. And I was _seventeen_. The thought was kind of heartbreaking, but I mentally brushed it off. "I look forward to working with you."

"Likewise," I murmured, unable to speak real loud, but slowly starting to come out of the shock that had built up within the seconds that they did.

"So, are you two ready, or do you need to take a look at the lines?" Chris intruded.

Taylor shrugged. "I'm good to go . . . " He looked to me, his deep brown eyes asking if I was ready myself.

Shit. Brown eyes. My weakness.

I gulped. _Twenty years old . . . Seventeen years old._

I nodded, standing, a stressed-looking woman handing each of us a draft of the script. We both sat at the seats they directed us to, both facing each other directly. He flashed a brief smile of confidence to me. I tried to fake one back, unable to grasp the situation. I resisted slapping my forehead; _he _was the one trying to score a role, not _me _- I already had it in the bag. I took a deep breath, somewhat assured by the thought.

We started.

The scene was where Nora was trying to get answers out of Patch for their school Biology project, so she finds him in a pool hall where he spends a lot of his time gambling.

"Sorry about hanging up; reception kinda sucks around here," Taylor began in a half-distracted voice.

I envisioned a pool table in front of me, feigning surprise. "So . . . eight ball? I didn't know you were a gambler. How high're the stakes?" I asked, sounding curious.

He smirked. "Money isn't exactly what we play for around here."

"Really? Because I'd have bet everything against you by now." He snickered. I rolled my eyes. "If you can just give me a few answers, I'll be out before you know it."

"Whoa, wait - jerk? Cancer?" He gaped, as he pretended to examine a partially completed list of what Nora knew about Patch.

I pretended to ignore him. "So how much do you smoke a night? One cigar? Two?"

He rolled his eyes. "I don't smoke."

I snickered. "Right."

"You're interfering with the game," He rolled his eyes, a grin pulling at his lips.

I flashed a sly grin. "Oh? Well, I hope that the odds aren't in your favor. So what's your biggest dream?"

"To kiss you," he grinned, my face involuntarily reddening, even though it didn't mean anything; we were acting.

"That's not funny, you know," I pointed out, my voice shaking slightly.

"Hey - I got you to blush though," he smirked, running a hand through his ink black hair.

I bit my lip. "So, do you work?"

He nodded. "Over at that mexican place."

"What's your religion?" I continued.

He bit his full lip, causing my heart to stutter. "I think you have enough answers."

"Religion?" I asked again, trying to sound firm.

He sighed, looking down, looking as if something were hidden in his eyes. "I don't really participate in

I gaped. "_Cult_?" I repeated, trying to sound shocked.

"Actually, it's a good thing you're here. I'm kind of in need of a healthy female sacrifice, and I was gonna try to get you to trust me more first, but hey, there's no time like the present," he smirked evilly, somehow heartbreakingly.

I took a deep breath, shooting him a glare. "If you're trying to impress me, it's not working."

"Who said I was trying?"

I paused for a moment as he locked gazes with me, both of our eyes roaming the other's face. I blinked. "So I heard from a friend that you're a senior? How many times have you failed tenth grade biology to where you need to again?" I raised my eyebrows.

"I can be my own spokesperson, thank you very much," he responded.

I opened my mouth to continue, but we were interrupted by Chris's easy voice. "I think we've got all that we need guys, thank you for your time." I looked over to see him with a thoughtful grin on his face. I turned back to Taylor, who was smiling as bright as he did when we first met.

"Even better than what I've seen," he smiled.

I flushed. "Thanks," I mumbled, turning to the door to find a drinking fountain. My throat was still dry from my cold, but I was glad that I was well enough for right now. Although, I kind of regretted not putting more effort into how I looked, despite the fact that I was still sick.

_Twenty _. . . _Seventeen_.

Taylor was right on my trail. "Do you mind if I ask you a question?" He asked, catching up to walk right beside me.

I shrugged. Of course I didn't mind. "Shoot," I smiled.

He grinned back, his teeth showing like white pearls as we reached the water fountain. "How did you do that?"

I glanced at him as I gathered my hair to one side. "Do what?" I asked, confused.

"You _blushed_. I've seen a lot in the past few years, but I've never seen someone _blush _on command," he explained, leaning against the wall. "I realize that it's really small, but still, it's hard enough to cry on command, let alone gather enough emotion to _blush_."

The words caused me to do just that. My cheeks heated to a deep scarlet as I bent my face to the fountain. "Thanks," I mumbled before taking a drink. I pulled up, wiping my lips. "And I don't know how I did it," I lied smoothly, meeting his chocolate gaze. I gulped.

He looked disappointed. "Too bad. I was hoping to lean something from you," he let out his contagious, laugh, causing me to giggle with him. "So how long have you been acting?"

"Well, I started when I was fourteen so that would be . . . three years," I concluded after doing the easy math in my head.

He raised his eyebrows. "Really? Only three? Wow, you must have a lot of experience then within those three years, I'd have thought the majority of your life, but you proved me wrong."

I blushed again. "What about you?"

"Twelve years," he smiled, seeming as if he'd answered the question millions of times.

I didn't know what else to say, which is weird, because if I were to realistically imagine our first meeting, it would probably be more of me firing one question after another, as he thought I was insane. I shook the thought away.

"Taylor, come on," a tall woman called down the hall.

He sighed, pushing himself off of the wall. "I've gotta go - see you later, it was a pleasure meeting you," he smiled one last time as he took a few backwards steps to the direction that he had to go.

I smiled like an idiot. "You too, see you."

He grinned as he turned and walked off.

I started to go and find Abigail, walking the direction that we'd came. I resisted the urge to scream, smiling brighter than I ever had before, which was rare, due to the fact that I never really full-on _smiled_, because I thought that my smile was cheesy, although everyone always argued otherwise.

I went to bed that night with the largest grin on my face, hardly able to believe my life for what it was. Needless to say, Taylor got the part. Then I realizes something.

I was cast as the lead role in a movie. With Taylor Lautner. I would be working with Taylor Lautner - for the next four years.

These four years were going to go faster than ever before.

* * *

**A/N: **Thank you for reading chapter one! This was something that had been boggling my mind for a while now, so I thought I'd share it with you. I'd appreciate it if you could please let me know if you like it or not, because I'm not sure whether or not I'm gonna continue it. If you guys like it, I sure will, and you never know, I've been known for just doing what I feel, no matter what others say, but still, I'd like to know if this is a topic that's even remotely appealing to readers. I really appreciate the fact that you even _considered _clicking on my story to read it, let alone reading _this _far, even though it's one chapter! (More to come!) If you have any suggestions for story ideas, I'm all ears, I kind of need other activities that should happen in this, and I'll give credit to whoever gives the idea, so don't expect me to claim such as my own! Thank you guys, you're awesome!

**I would love you guys forever if you would please check out my "Robsten" opinion poll on my profile page! Please? BIG thanks to those who do, I'm really curious, and am greatful that you'd take a few minutes to take it!**

**Note: **This story is also on **Quotev .com**

By the way, no, I haven't heard anything of whether or not they're going to make a _Hush, Hush _movie, I just thought that it fit.

**DISCLAIMER**: I do not own Twilight, or Hush, Hush, or Taylor Lautner [unfortunately]


	2. Chapter 2: Ultimatum

**Chapter 2: Ultimatum**

"Lacey! Over here! How are you today? Where are you going? How many projects do you have lined up?" was all screamed in my ears as I stumbled through LAX Airport, keeping my eyes on the ground, careful not to trip over anything, or get blinded by the white flashes of the cameras that followed me.

How they already knew who I was, was beyond me. The casting for _Hush, Hush _had just gone out two mere _days _ago, after we'd finally finished all of the main role auditions. Once Chris had confirmed to me that I wasn't going to be needed for a while again, Abigail and I immediately started packing for home. She warned me that being in a movie with Taylor Lautner was bound to get some press - especially when you had the main role - but she failed to mention that it would be quite like _this_, with some teenage girls already rushing up asking for some sort of autograph just because of the fact that I would be becoming very close with their favorite actor, and to top it off, having paparazzi running on their heels just to get a snapshot. Yes, it sounds like a total cliché to say that it became very annoying to have the cameras in my face, but I tried not to dwell on the attention, due to the fact that Abigail said that it was only the beginning, much to my dismay. I was well aware that It sounded _ungrateful_, and _unappreciative _of me to think such, but honestly, I _loved _the fact that my hard work had paid off . . . I just wished that my _followers with cameras _would get out of my face for a few minutes. Once the news of the new cast had hit the internet, I was already being followed to mere places like the restaurant across the street from out hotel; and that was just within mere _hours_. They somehow had already found out my past works and movies, even though half of those went uncredited.

Abigail kept a tight grip on my forearm as I tried to make my way over to the airport security. I spared myself a glance at her, catching an apologetic smile. She knew how unfamiliar I was with any sort of spotlight. We finally reached security, where they started to fade away, less and less cameras flashing.

The plane was much more peaceful than the airport, a few stares every now and then, but nothing crazy, the most enthusiastic being a girl who looked to be about thirteen years old, her eyes seeming to bug out of their sockets behind her pink-rimmed glasses. I smiled at her, giving a slight wave, receiving a wide grin with braces lining her teeth. I chuckled, looking out the window of our coach seats. Abigail had suggested that we get first class seats, but then I pointed out that it was pointless. The only difference is that first class got special treatment, while coach got less. It was all in the same plane, and took everyone to the same place, so what was the point. She had shrugged, seeing my point.

I took out my hardcover copy of _Hush, Hush_, deciding that it wouldn't be a bad idea to study up on the book again - even though I'd already read it - before filming started. "Um, excuse me?"

I looked up to see a tall, blonde woman, looking to be nearing thirty looking down at me in my seat with excited eyes. I smiled, having no clue what she needed. "Yeah?"

She smiled brightly, kind of shyly. "Okay, um, well, are you Lacey Brink?"

I nodded slowly, confused. "Um, yeah?"

"Err, well, um . . . could I please have your autograph . . . if that's not too much to ask?" she asked, sounding hopeful, holding out a napkin and a blue pen.

Ah. I got it now. _Damn_, that was going to take some getting used to - I kept forgetting.

"Yeah, sure," I smiled, using my best script to write my name on the napkin. I finished, handing the items to her. "Here you go," I smiled brightly.

She returned the smile. "Thank you so much! I love _Hush, Hush_, and have been watching like a hawk for updates about the movie - and may I say, that you are absolutely adorable for Nora by the way - ooh! And I love your jacket!" she gushed, causing my face to flood a deep scarlet in response.

"That's so sweet, thank you. And I think that your necklace is beautiful, by the way," I smiled, gesturing to the small heart that she wore around her neck with diamonds lining the edges.

She smiled kindly, her fingers brushing the heart. "Thank you . . . it was my mom's . . . she gave it to me before she died," she smiled sadly, her eyes somber.

"I'm sorry . . . I know how you feel," I felt remorse wash over me, removing the long chain that I wore around my neck. "These used to belong to my parents . . . they were their wedding rings," I murmured, running my fingers over the various colors of gold that hung from the chain. My dad's a large band with intricate carvings going around the white gold, while my mom's was a simple diamond with two others on either side of it, a rich gold creating the circle that shaped it. I looked down to my right hand where I wore my mom's Mother's Ring, one rich red ruby in the center for my mom's birthday of July, with two turquoise gems for my and my sister's December birthdays . . . these were the only pieces of jewelry that I wore to the airport . . . I couldn't ever seem to take them off.

She stared at the rings, a look of sympathy on her face. "How old are you?" she blurted out, biting her lip.

"Seventeen," I said, still staring at the rings, unable to tear my gaze away from it.

"Oh . . . you're so young . . . honey, I'm so sorry . . . are you okay?" she asked, her sentence broken up, separated into almost separate sentences.

I nodded, swallowing then forcing a smile on my face, looking back up to the woman. "I never caught your name."

"Angela," she smiled weakly, shifting her weight to her opposite foot.

I nodded. "Well, Angela, it was nice meeting you."

"You too, I can't _wait _to see the movie."

I smiled. "Thank you, I appreciate it."

"If I can get you anything, please, just ask," Angela said, starting to step away.

"Will do," I smiling, waving as she left. I sighed.

"You handled that well," Abigail noted as I turned to her.

I smiled. "I learned it all from you," I smirked, nudging her elbow.

"Of course you did, that was awesome," she smiled, causing me to laugh, rolling my eyes. "Did you tell your friends that you were coming back home?"

"Shit, I forgot. I'll call them when I get off the plane," I said, leaning my head back against the seat.

She nodded, doing the same, settling in for the ride.

* * *

I got into Abigail's car that had sat in the snow-covered Minneapolis Airport parking lot the entire time that we had been in LA. Once our luggage was in the trunk, I pulled out my cell phone, finding Keira's number in my contacts.

"Hello?" she answered on the other end.

"Hey, it's Lacey," I said.

"I know, Lace, I have caller ID," she pointed out.

I chuckled. "Okay, just saying."

"Okay, so why didn't you frickin' call me?! You're in the movie with Taylor Lautner!" she exploded, getting to the point.

"Okay, first, a conversation goes both ways; you could've called me too, and second, yes, he was cast, and I'm freaking out."

"He's gonna think you're weird, you know that right? You freaking love _Twilight_, he's gonna think you're crazy."

I laughed. "_Duh_. Dude, if he doesn't think that already, then he will - and even if he does; so what? Everyone thinks that we're weird."

"Good point, my friend," she laughed. "Dude we should get Alex on here - Ashley too. Should we call Micah . . . ?" she wondered.

"Sure, let's get them all on," I laughed, pulling my phone from my ear to put it on speaker.

Abigail looked over at me. "What're you doing?"

"Keira's getting everyone else on," I explained.

She nodded, seeming exhausted. "Helloooooo?" a deep female voice sounded off from the receiver of my phone. Alex.

"Hello? Alex, was that you? Or was that Lace? Guys?" Keira asked into the phone, her soprano voice easy to pick out, even through the device.

"That was me," Alex said.

"Alex! Hey! Lacey, say hi," she demanded, causing me to roll my eyes at my control freak of a friend.

"Hey, Alex," I chuckled into the phone.

"Hey," she said in her low, monotone voice.

"What's u - "

"Hello?" another voice asked, joining the conversation. "Guys? It's Ashley!" she said, seeming to go into a panic.

"ASHLEY!" Keira nearly screeched, causing my receiver to crack from the pitch of the sound. "Hello, darling!"

Honestly, I was well aware that she was just being annoyingly overenthusiastic, but I let her be. "Hey, Ash," I said.

"Hey, is this a Lacey that I'm hearing?" she asked.

I chuckled. "Yes, you're hearing that rare species of a Lacey," I chuckled, rolling my eyes.

"How are you? I heard that you're famous now," she commented in her professional sounding voice.

I nearly cringed at the word. _Famous_. I didn't want to be thought of any differently. I realized that I had to be even more careful with my trust now. "Uh, I guess?" I mumbled, not knowing what to say. "I've had to sign quite a few autographs already."

"How? You were just cast, how do they know?" Keira asked.

"I don't know, I guess that word just gets around fast," I shrugged although they couldn't see me.

"Weird," she commented.

"Well, I guess that I know how Kristen Stewart felt when _Twilight _was thrown at her," I laughed. **(A/N: *cries* Awww, ROBSTEN! *brokenhearted*)**

I envisioned the three of them rolling their eyes. "Of course _Lacey _would bring _Twilight _up, because that's what Laceys do." Ashley, said. I could hear her smile through the phone.

"Speaking of _Twilight_, what about Taylor?"

"What about him?" I asked.

"Taylor who?" Alex asked, unknowing.

"Taylor Lautner, he's in the same movie as Lacey," Keira explained. "Oh," was all Alex said.

"Who's that?" Ashley asked, confused.

"You don't know who Taylor Lautner is?" Keira asked, shocked, but the slightest bit of unsurprise hinted in the edges of her voice.

"No, who is he?"

"Ashley! You need to, like, watch a Twilight movie or something," Keira sighed, exasperated.

"No! I will not watch those _awful _movies!" Ashley protested.

"Don't say that will Lacey on the line! She'll beat your ass through the phone!" Keira exclaimed.

I rolled my eyes. "Dude, you haven't even seen them; how can you say that they're awful?" I asked.

"They sparkle; they're obviously awful," she explained.

"Well, Ashley, next time that you're here, I'm gonna make you watch every _Twilight _movie, and you're gonna like them," Keira said, kind of making it an ultimatum.

Ashley whined, making endless excuses to get out of it, but inevitably, running out of them.

"Hello?" a male voice came on the line, interrupting Ashley and Keira's argument as Alex and I sat quietly, listening to their bickering.

"Micah!" Keira cheered - she was kind of the organizer of all of this.

"Hey, guys," he said.

"Lacey's in a movie with Taylor Lautner!" she screamed immediately, causing me to sigh.

Micah had the same reaction. "Keira, you told me that last night when we were texting," he said.

"Oh, yeah," she said.

Everyone started arguing about the most random of things, from better superheroes, to what day was supposed to be the first of March. I really could not follow; we had five people on the line at once. "Guys!" I shouted into the receiver, receiving a warning glance from Abigail. I gave her an apologetic smile. "Do you even wanna know why I called?"

"You didn't call me," Ashley pointed out.

"Me either," Alex agreed.

"Guys, that's beyond the point," I sighed, about to explode. "Okay, I was calling to tell you that I'm coming home."

"Dude, when?!" Keira asked, the rest waiting quietly to hear.

"Like, right now. Our flight landed in the cities just a bit ago, I'm on my way back to Detroit Lakes."

"Dude, you need to come here right away when you get here," Keira said, saying that the rest needed to come too.

"I have to get Hampton anyway," I said, referring to my basset hound.

"Oh, yeah," she said.

I sighed. "Well, the snow's picking up here, I better go before I lose connection," I said.

"'Kay, bye," everyone said before I hit the 'end' button.

* * *

I quickly dropped my luggage off at my house, letting Abigail go to hers, then going into my garage and pulling out in my mom's old Tahoe, having driven it since she died. Thankfully, the tires on this vehicle had good traction, so the ice of the roads didn't cause me to so much as swerve ask I drove back into town. It was a relief to be home again, seeing everything that I'd missed. The snow was thicker than when I'd left in late January, the February blizzards blowing through in my absence - thankfully, although, if they hadn't calmed down a bit, then I might not have been able to make it home as soon as I had.

I pulled into the gravel driveway of Keira's house, located smack-dab in the middle of town, killing the ignition before I rushed to the door, trying not to get my Converse soaked from the snow. I walked in through the side door, having been over here enough to not need to knock anymore. Hampton came rushing up to me immediately, crying and howling with his head thrown back as he jumped up on my legs.

"Arrroooooo!" he howled, his lips forming a tiny _O _at the end of his muzzle.

"Hey, Hampton," I laughed, petting his soft head, his long, basset hound ears even softer.

I heard Keira come rushing down the stairs. "Hello, darling," she greeted, flashing a bright smile, her teeth showing behind her pink lips. I tried not so sigh at her appearance. I knew that it was shallow of me, but any female on the planet would be jealous of her looks; she was stunning, with her died curly hair that she had flat ironed, the pale blonde hair prominent under the brown hair on top of her halo, the brown pulling out the color of her chocolate brown eyes that she thought were too small, but really only made her all the more beautiful, her flawless fair skin contrasting her hair with a porcelain look. She was the perfect height, lucky not to be as short as her mom was, but I unfortunately couldn't say the same for myself, but she wasn't tall enough to be considered anything more than average, which worked well with her petite frame.

"Hey, hon," I smiled at her.

"When do you start filming?" she asked, getting to the point.

I sighed. "I don't know, Abigail's looking into it."

She nodded, and then a sly grin stretched across her lips. "So, what about Taylor? You never answered me before."

I rolled my eyes. "What about him?"

"You're hoping that he'll fall in love with you, I know it," she teased, clasping her hand to her heart when talking about love.

"Dude, that's illegal."

She shrugged. "Is he hot, or not as much in person?"

I sighed, knowing that she'd twist whatever I said into something that I didn't mean if I didn't give it to her straight. "Yeah, I guess. If not, hotter," I admitted, praying that she wouldn't make a big deal out of nothing.

"Ha! I knew it! You _liiike _him," she smirked, grabbing a bag of chips as she sat down at the table.

"Dude! Like I said, it's illegal. Besides, you know how much I love _Twilight_," I defended lamely.

"So? The only reason that you even like Jacob at all is because Taylor Lautner's hot, otherwise you're team Edward," she explained, placing a broken chip in her mouth.

"Not true! Dude, you know that I love both Edward and Jacob equally, it's just that Taylor's hotter than Rob, but that doesn't even count for anything as far as what team I'm on, and you know this, because I've gone over it several times with you, so suck it," I said, laughing by the end. She joined in.

"_You _suck it," she shot back, smiling.

"_You _suck it."

"_You _suck it."

"_You _suck it."

"Dude, we're gonna be going on all day . . . I don't even remember what this was about anymore," she pointed out, laughing lightly.

I paused for dramatic effect, staring at her with a blank face, ignoring her comment. " . . . suck it."

She laughed, rolling her eyes as we heard a knock at the door. Keira went to go get it, Hampton howling and barking as she opened the side door - the door that they mainly used, not even bothering with how there was always stuff blockading the front door - to her half-Asian-and-hates-everyone-but-his-girlfriend boyfriend, Christopher. He walked through the entryway, walking into the kitchen where I sat at the table. He stared at me. I smiled, stealing a chip from Keira's bag. "Hey, Christopher."

"What're you doing here?" he asked.

"Gee, it's nice to see you too," I muttered, rolling my eyes.

He did the same. "Seriously, I thought you were in California or something."

"I just got back today," I explained as Keira sat next to me again.

He nodded, taking the seat next to Keira, the chair scraping against the tile floor. "What were you doing out there, anyway?"

"Casting. I got the lead in a movie, so they needed me to help with casting the other characters."

He nodded. "What's it about?"

I sighed, leaning back in my chair as I explained. "It's about a girl who falls in love with a fallen angel who is plotting to sacrifice her life, but ends up falling in love with her. It's based off of Hush, Hush, if you've ever heard of those books."

"Sounds like it's gonna suck," he said, earning a slap in the arm from Keira. He looked at her as if to say, _I didn't do anything! _"So did you at least get good actors? Minus you, of course."

I shot him a glare as Keira answered for me. "Taylor Lautner's in it."

"It's gonna suck. _Bad_," he said the moment that he heard Taylor's name.

"It's not gonna suck! Shut up!" Keira defended, shoving him.

"I'm just saying. Taylor Lautner? It can't be that good, then."

"What, are you saying that I can't act _myself _or something, Christopher?" I smirked, leaning forward in my chair, Keira raising her eyebrows as I did.

He shot me a look. "Did I say that? No."

I rolled my eyes. "You were thinking it."

"So?" he said. I leaned across the table and shoved him, not answering. Although, I couldn't help the chuckle that escaped my throat.

"You're so _mean_," Keira defended me lamely in her soprano voice, pouting, saying that she was about to start flirting.

"I'm gonna go," I said, rising from the table when I figured out that they'd go gooey on me soon.

"Why?" Keira looked up at me.

"I gotta unpack," I said, hooking Hampton to his collar.

"You suck," she frowned. "Well, if you want, you can come with us to a movie tonight?" she suggested, getting up form the table. Although, Christopher did not seem too thrilled, rubbing his face at the invitation.

I spared him the trouble of having anyone he didn't like around. "I have homework to finish, I didn't get it all done in LA," I said, half smiling.

"Fine," she sighed. "See you at school."

I smiled. "See you."

* * *

I woke up on Monday morning to the sound of my alarm clock going off at 5:30 AM, telling me that it was time to get ready for school. I let Hampton out to go to the bathroom before showering in a very zombie-like state, this being the earliest that I'd woken up in a long time, especially with the time change - Minnesota was two hours ahead of California. Once I was out, I quickly let Hampton back in, feeding him before going to get dressed in a pair of skinny jeans, a flowing deep blue top, a cream leather jacket, and a pair of blue booties that I'd bought in LA. After quickly curling my hair with a clampless, conical shaped curling iron, I drew on the little amount of eyeliner that I ever used, along with some sage green eyeshadow at the corners, giving myself a natural-looking smoky eye while bringing out the green in my hazel eyes.

Once I had added jewelry, I was out the door, heading to the Detroit Lakes High School.

**~oOo~**

"Heyyyy," Alex looked up from her iPod Touch when I walked up to her in the commons area of school. Not many people were here yet, just a few preps and druggies. We weren't considered _popular_, I guessed, but we were well liked by everyone. Not nerds, not geeks, not jocks, not preps, not druggies, not preps, not even average; we were just different. I mean, Keira was the gorgeous girl who was liked by every guy on the planet, polite to everyone, and a total _Directioner_, Alex was a basketball-playing-golfer who doubled as a video game freak, Ashley was the naive hockey player, who everyone on her team would get mad at, because someone from the other team would get checked, and she'd make sure that they were okay, not to mention that she was a freaking genius, Micah was the only guy in the grade who would make a perverted joke and you'd actually like him for it - a lot of people thought that he was gay, but he wasn't, his best friends were just girls - then there was me, the emancipated, _Twilight _obsessed actress who stopped growing at five feet tall - hence, I liked heels - who had no drama in her life, so she was ultimately the 'listener' to everyone else's problems.

Then of course, there was our friend, Kylee, who had nearly ditched us for Justin Bieber; just because we didn't like him, she - and another girl who we already hated anyway - stopped being our friend. We still talked, but there was nothing to talk about. We tried mending the broken ends of our friendship, but it just wasn't working. She seemed to grow further away with every effort.

"Hey, whatcha doing?" I asked, sitting at the table with her. She shrugged, playing some game on her iPod, leaving me with nothing to do.

Soon enough, everyone else started getting to school, buses and cars pulling into the school lot. Not only did my close friends come up to me, but several distant ones decided to rush up to give me a hug, for example, my friend, Kayla.

"Lacey!" she'd squeaked, rushing over to crush me in a hug, me nearly being buried in her height. Her blonde hair had been cut to just above her shoulders, giving her a very sweet appearance, to go with her excited blue eyes, and prep attitude. I'll admit, she was annoying a lot of the time, and liked the attention that she got from putting herself out there, but she was a good friend when you needed one, and I was one of the people who saw a bit deeper into her than others.

"Kayla!" I replied, hugging her back.

"I told you that you'd be fine in life! And you were always so afraid of the future!" she scoffed, shoving my shoulder playfully, while my other friends talked amongst themselves. That is what I hated about cliques; you couldn't ever get everyone to get along, not ever, even though my friends and I weren't considered a 'clique,' that didn't mean that they liked everyone. It was just awkward sometimes.

I stared at her. "What the hell are you talking about?"

She sighed. "Remember? You always used to think that you were gonna end up homeless or something, when I _told _you that you'd do great," she explained, smiling brightly.

I rolled my eyes. "Shut up," I chuckled as the bell rang. I sighed, getting ready for a repeat of this morning - every class period of the day.

"Hey," someone said after school as I was gathering my stuff from my bright red locker. I looked up to see Adam Johnson, one of the school's players - for both basketball and the hearts of teenage girls - standing outside my locker, shifting his weight back and fourth between his feet anxiously.

I was confused; ever since he found out that I liked Twilight in eighth grade, he'd used every chance he could to call me a _Twihard_, which I graciously accepted because it was the truth, but then one day late that school year in Language Arts, we had to give 3 minute speeches about a topic that we cared about, and mine was on how to be yourself; he seemed to avoid me ever since then, well, minus the time where I was at a movie with a friend who had moved and was visiting me for a weekend and he and some of his friends happened to be there too, so his friend told us to sit in front of them. Me, being someone of a different crowd was going to object, thinking that it would just be awkward - I was right - was somewhat shocked when my friend, Amanda, said yes. It ended with popcorn in Amanda's hair, and me being asked, "Lacey, why do you hate Adam?" by his friend, Robbie, who then took Adam's hat off of him and tried putting it on me. "Lacey, Adam wants you to wear his hat."

I was brought back to reality. Why the hell was he with _me_?

"Err, hey, Adam," I said confused.

"Uh," he started, averting his eyes from my gaze. "I was wondering whether or not you'd . . . um, maybe . . . go out with me?" he mumbled, seeming barely able to utter it out.

My jaw nearly dropped. Well, if I said that I had seen that one coming, I would be lying. "Uh - _why_?" I blurted out, hoping I didn't sound mean.

"Why not?" he sounded defensive, almost hurt. I knew that he probably wouldn't have asked before my career - why else would he ask now of all times?

"You've avoided me for the past two, almost three, years," I explained, shoving my arms through the sleeves of my jacket.

He frowned, looking down again. "So? You don't even know why . . ."

Why had he suddenly gone all defensive? . . . Why had he taken sudden interest in me? "Then why?" I demanded, shutting my locker door after gathering my things that I needed from it.

He sighed. "Please, just one date, then I'll explain it then," he pleaded, finally meeting my gaze.

I swallowed, trying to decipher why he looked so pained, so urgent. I wasn't his type - was he after something? My V-card perhaps? " . . . I'll think about it," I finally said, sighing. I wasn't sure of myself. He seemed different than before, much more guarded, sweeter . . . but he was also a player - he was as much of an actor as I was.

He nodded, turning on his heel to walk the direction that he came. I huffed, grabbing my car keys out of my backpack and started for Micah's locker, at the opposite end of the hallway from mine. Keira and Ashley stood, well, barely, they were about to topple over from laughter at the fight that had broken out between Alex and Micah. Those two always did something to piss the other one off, whether it was spew a mild insult at them, or simple as taking the last cookie - fighting was their thing. It used to be Kylee and Alex who had always been the ones to do that, but Kylee was too busy with stalking Justin Bieber on _Twitter_.

I stood by Ashley. "What happened?" I asked, watching Alex and Micah as I spoke, Micah throwing her into the lockers as she sprung back, tacking him to the ground. I was surprised that no teachers had come to break it up yet.

"Oh, Alex sat on Micah's phone," Ashley explained, grinning.

I rolled my eyes, laughing at the two. "The weirdest thing just happened," I began.

"What?" Keira asked, looking away from Micah and Alex for a moment.

"Adam Johnson just asked me out," I said incredulously.

* * *

**A/N: **Okay, yes, this chapter was kind of boring and pointless, but hey, we always need some filler, and this kind of introduced you to more characters and Lacey's life back home - don't worry, Taylor's gonna be back soon! I also understand how this isn't the best written chapter out there, but I really worked on it! **Stick with me, I promise that it gets better!**

Thanks to you awesome readers who read the last chapter, and even bigger thanks to those who reviewed/favorited/alerted! I love you guys, you're so amazing!

Anywho, I need to ask you guys something: **Should Lacey say yes to Adam or not?** If she does, then Taylor could start acting weird and be jealous, which is how that could go, or she could say no, knowing that deep down she really likes Taylor, regardless of how well they know each other yet. Please guys, I need help on this, I can't pick between the two! **(I won't update until I know - I'm that desperate!)**

I really hope you guys stick with me, I have some interesting things planned for the future chapters, some people included later on may be**: Robert Pattinson, Kellan Lutz **(maybe), **One Direction, Ellen Degeneres, Kristen Stewart, Ashley Greene **(maybe), **Justin Bieber **(_definately_, and it's gonna be awkward, haha), and some more than that even! Haha. I hope you've enjoyed! **:)**

Hope you read the next chapter! Give me a chance?

Thank you for reading, I really appreciate it! **:D**


	3. Chapter 3: Empty

**Chapter 3: Empty**

My friends' eyes widened. "What?" They all said, synchronized. Micah stopped pinning Alex to the ground, who had just been yanking at the collar of his polo. Their expressions all mirrored one another, of shock, disgust, and curiosity, not sure what to make of the situation.

"What did you _say_?" Keira asked, her mascara lined eyes wide.

I shrugged. "Nothing."

"Lies!" Ashley called dramatically.

"No, seriously, I didn't say anything! I was confused, so I told him that I'd think about it."

"Confused?! What the hell? What's so confusing about that? He likes you and he asked you out! There's your explanation!" Keira shook my shoulders as she spoke. Micah and Alex were tack to tossing the other around, uninterested in the topic.

"Don't you think that it's a coincidence that he asked me this just after I got back from casting in Los Angeles? When I'm taking photographs with people who I don't even _know_? How do I know that he just doesn't want to give his popularity a boost - though he hardly needs it."

She pondered that for a moment. "Well, what do you have to lose?"

"My virginity," I said bluntly, both of us knowing that he was prone to taking such on occasion.

"You know what I mean. Just one date. Just give him a chance, everyone deserves one," she encouraged.

She was right. Going by the logic that I was, then technically _everyone _couldn't be trusted, which was a harsh way of putting it. I sighed, nodding. "Well, I better get home, see you late," I smiled, looking at a beaming Keira, who waved before turning back to the Micah versus Alex brawl.

I was just about to the doors located just outside of the crowded commons area when I caught Adam watching me with a curious eye. I huffed nodding my yes to him. He grinned as I stepped into the cold February whether.

* * *

Tonight was the night that Adam and I had decided on for our date. I had mixed feelings over it, not sure if I was more excited or curious over the event. I finished off my natural smoky eye that made my hazel eyes look more brown than green, quickly throwing on my red flats as I heard a honk outside in the driveway. I really didn't think out my outfit, wearing flats while the driveway had yet to be plowed. I sighed, locking the door behind me as I trudged, careful not to slip on hidden ice, through the sheet of snow that covered the gravel, soaking through the thin suede fabric of my shoes.

I got into the car awkwardly, looking over at Adam who's blonde hair was perfectly gelled into place, his blue eyes glancing in my direction, grinning. "Hey."

"Hey," I murmured. "Uh, where are we going?" I asked.

"Um, I was thinking Godfathers," he said, backing out of the driveway, cruising down my gravel road, just slow enough to where ice wouldn't throw us off course. He didn't seem sure to himself. When he spoke, it sounded as if he were asking my permission to go there, like he expected me to request something better.

I resisted a sigh, nodding. "Yeah, I love Godfathers. Anything else?"

Adam furrowed his eyebrows, staring at the slushy road through the windshield. "Erm, no, I didn't have anything planned . . . But if you want anything, or have any requests . . ." he trailed off when I shook my head, nodding in response. "'Kay," was all he said.

The rest of the ten-minute drive to town seemed to drag on for hours, locked in the cold car - his heater was broken - with the awkward air between us so thick that you could cut it with a knife. I tried to distract myself by observing the little snowflakes that drifted through the air, becoming streaks of white as we sped past on the highway. It was still pretty though. Regardless to the fact that they looked like the ends of Q-tips, they created a scene that seemed to belong in a happy, joyful painting, a work of art; it didn't fit with the awkward car ride to a first date who I, to be honest, didn't even know if I liked. I mean, don't get me wrong, Adam was cute and all, but not my type. He could be nice enough . . . I guess, but I wasn't the girl for him. He needed someone who was crazy, out there, sporty, someone like him; not boring old me, gone all the time, a stick in the mud. I wasn't exciting. I missed school for my _job_, was always out of place, even with my own friends, my dating history _sucked_. I honestly didn't know how I let myself say yes to Adam. If it were up to me, most days I'd probably go and cry in the corner over things that didn't even matter. I was parentless, seventeen, alone, and facing the world for herself, and, if you put it into _Twilight _perspective, I was like an old, broken down car; I wasn't ever going to run right, a complete mess. I wouldn't ever fit in anywhere, good for nothing. When my mom was around, she used to claim that I had no emotions, because I never showed any. I'd decided that as long as everyone else was happy, then so was I, I never said what I wanted, I didn't even _think _about what I wanted, knowing that it was selfish to do so, and that, for whatever reason, putting _my _wants out there would just blow up in my face as it always had before the decision. And when I finally _did _do that, I still wasn't happy. I truly was beginning to think that I was emotionless, empty.

I chewed on my lip as I thought that over, my thoughts soon drifting over to a certain boy who I didn't know real well. That could have easily been the one next to me, it _should _have been, but the face that floated into my mind was one of warm brown eyes that enveloped you in his gaze the second that he caught yours, his bronze skin glowed, not a flaw left upon it, minus the occasional freckle or mole, though that was cute, it was good to know that he wasn't absolutely _perfect_, that he was _normal_. Taylor seemed like a cool guy to be around, trustworthy, caring, but seemed like he was hiding how truly dorky he could be; now _that_, I couldn't wait to see. I mentally chuckled to myself as we pulled into the parking lot of Godfathers, Adam parking at the curb just in front of the door; thank god, my feet were gonna fall off of hypothermia.

We walked into the restaurant, choosing a booth before quickly deciding on the buffet just to make things easier. Once we'd both sat down with our plates filled with various flavors of pizza, I looked up at him.

"So what brought this on?" I finally asked.

He sighed. "Okay, so you know how in eighth grade we had those stupid speeches to make up and present to the class?" I nodded for him to continue, which he did. "Well, most were just your basic 'how-to' speeches, but your's . . . your's had an effect."

What the hell? This was about some stupid assignment?

"So you made me realize who I was truly becoming, and how that differed from who I actually was. I tried to keep up the same act around my friends and everyone else, but I knew after hearing that speech that you could see right through it. You stood in front of thirty eighth grade students, all your piers, and told them how pathetic that they were being, and showed no fear of it. You told them that it was easy to be yourself, even though straying away from the in-crowd is the hardest battle to overcome." He looked at me. "You had no clue, did you?"

I shook my head. "I didn't think that anyone was really paying attention, anyway."

He held my gaze. "You were wrong. I was paying attention, and so was everybody else, you were just to blind to see it. Despite what you may think, we don't see through you; we rather look right at you. _You're _the one who's blinded here."

I thought that over for a minute, biting my lip as I stared at the table, before looking up at him, his blue eyes intent on me. "Why did you suddenly ask now? Is it because of my, err - " I cleared my throat, still not used to the thought, "Recent success?"

He nodded, causing me to go stiff. "I knew you'd think that, but I also knew that because of it, you'd see better options, think of me as less. I just wanted a chance before you thought that. I wanted to ask you sooner, but couldn't, I don't know why, you're just different. Once your career started taking off, I didn't want to waste anymore time."

I nodded, keeping my eyes down. My trust was teetering on the edge of an unstable table at the moment, unsure of what to think. I bit my lip as he changed the subject, both of us prattling about unimportant small talk for the rest of the night. He explained how his dad left when he was younger, not having much a memory of him, his mom having to raise he and his two sisters alone. Thankfully, she had a well paying job, so money wasn't much of an issue there. I hesitantly told him about how I'd been alone and abandoned for quite some time now, hollow inside, void of any enthusiasm for much of anything outside of what I had, knowing that I didn't have much to lose.

He had reached across the table to touch my hand. "You're not alone anymore." I couldn't help the disbelief that flooded my veins when it didn't touch his eyes.

I wrinkled my nose in pain that I might be hurt again when he walked up to the counter to pay, out of our eye line. When he returned, I faked a smile, pulling on my black blazer on as I rose from the booth that we had been seated in.

"You ready to go?" he asked.

I nodded, walking out with him. The drive home was just as painfully quiet as it had been before, piercing silence, the only sound being the purr of the engine and some rap song playing softly on the radio. I huffed as we pulled into my driveway, stopping just in front of my garage doors.

I sighed, turning to him to say goodnight. "Well . . . "

I began, not sure of what to comment on. We both knew that _fun _would be the biggest overstatement of the night had I said that, and there'd been too much pain and uncalled for emotion to call it enjoying myself.

I noticed he was leaning in, causing my mind to flicker to whenever I'd have to do a kissing scene with someone who I hadn't particularly liked. I didn't stop him, though, not wanting to hurt his feelings. His lips touched mine, no emotion thrown in at all. It took all I had not to pull back, finally finding the will to do so when he tried to will my mouth to open. I bit my lip, looking down at me knees for a moment before grasping the door handle. "Goodnight, Adam," I murmured before stepping out of the car, running up to my front door.

I shut the door quickly, mainly because I didn't want to linger in the snow, but partially because I wanted to get as far from Adam as possible. He was sweet and all . . . Kinda, anyway, but I wasn't so sure about compatibility. There was no fire, no connection, no gravitational pull . . . I wasn't sure of myself. I just prayed that he wouldn't ask me out again, because I didn't even wanna think about what I would say.

* * *

I had been almost finished packing my suitcases. It turns out that I'd have to miss the last day of school because of filming, which ended just the week after summer vacation would start. I had my homework packed that needed to be done, and was doing whatever I could online, making it easier to just pack a laptop. I would be gone from early March to late May, also missing many of my friend's birthdays. I sighed, hating what I had to miss. However, I loved what I did and made a living out of it, so I was grateful for that fact.

To both my, and everyone else's surprise, I had stayed with Adam. After some convincing from both he and a few friends, I decided that it could get better, maybe it had just been an awkward first date. And it _had _gotten better, to be honest. He was very capable of being a good boyfriend, though I was still timid. We still lacked that connection that I longed to have. I just told myself that I just needed to give it all time, though I wasn't entirely convinced. I sighed, adding the rest of my things to my large suitcase, ready to take off to New Hampshire, where we would be filming.

* * *

**A/N: **BIG thank you to **write22**, and **wolfgirlrocks **of , then **Victoria**, and **HeyImADrirectioner **of **Quotev .com **for their input on Lacey's answer, as well as all of the other lovely commenters! Thank you guys so much, you _really _helped!

Okay, so, once again, I have another question, though this one does not effect the next time that I update. Haha. **Anywho, what do you think of my writing and/or this story? **I mean, I'm not trying to get an ego boost or anything; it's just that this is different for me to write, so I was curious if my writing style fit with the plot and such. This is merely curiosity, I just know that normally when I read a story like this, that everything goes _exactly _how you want it to, and they're so _predictable_, it's really quite annoying to be honest. Everyone else's characters are all very _"Mary Sue" _and personally, I don't think that Taylor has ever been really portrayed correctly, everyone always makes him out to be so perfect, when _I _think that his flaws are what makes him so adorable. I'm not trying to bash other fics, despite what you may or may not think, because I _have _seen other good ones that actually _do _do what I like to see, but I'm just staying, that everything's always so utopian, and I'd like to make this as realistic as possible. Of course, I've never met Taylor, so I'm not going to be able to get him quite right, which is gonna bug me to be totally honest with you, but I'll sure as hell try. I hope that this doesn't seem like one of _"those stories" _(If ya know what I mean.) because I can assure you that it's anything but. :D Love you, you're awesome for reading!

Also, I don't wanna sound conceded. I mean, I know for a fact that I'm babbling by this point, but, regardless, I do want to get along with you guys, I'll just have you know that I'm very opinionated! :/ Sorry if you don't like that, that's just how I am. (I'm one of those people who are strict on being the, so this is really important to me.)

**~And to those on **Quotev**, **(This is on two sites, so I have super long Author's Notes, sorry :/ )** I apologize if this isn't the to-the-point writing style that you guys seem to be used to, I've noticed that a lot of the fics on there are very to-the-point, as I said, and as someone who's so used to ****, I like to add more detail, and make it feel more like a book, so, just a heads up, this may be a bit different for you guys. (Many seem to bail on the first chapter for you guys, so I'm thinking that this may be the reason why . . . If it's anything else, feel free to tell me! I'm always looking for ways to improve!)**

_~To those on FF__, please check out the "Robsten" poll on my profile page! It would be _awesome _if you did! I don't really have much more to say to those of you, other than thanks for the lovely reviews, I appreciate them dearly, and that the favorite-ing and alert-ing is awesome too! Keep it up! :D_

Holy shit, this is a LONG Author's Note . . . Eh, I've actually done _longer_. Lol.

Hope you read the next chapter! Give me a chance?

Thank you for reading, I really appreciate it! **:D**

**PS: **I'm well aware of the fact that this chapter wasn't as long as the past two. **Also, Taylor comes back in the next chapter! Yay! **Okay, yet, another thing (If you've read this far, you have no social life :P) is that I might not update as frequently as you'd like, due to the fact that I'm working on five fanfictions right now and have been very busy lately, so I apologize for that.


	4. Chapter 4: Filming

**A/N: Not the best chapter, kinda short too, but I have an awesome idea that I wanna suggest to you guys, so I hope you stick through it, please R&R!**

**Chapter 4: Filming**

" . . . okay? And then you have to scream, and cling to this," Chris, our director explained, gesturing to a lone silver bar that hung just high enough to where my feet were two feet off the ground at most, with padding on the floor beneath it. I tried to avert my eyes away from the two walls worth of green screen, feeling a little uneasy at the bright color.

Today was day eight of shooting, but, due to lack of clear weather, we brought everything into an old warehouse that we'd been renting out and decided to shoot green screen work.

I nodded at the bar, waiting for him to continue. "Now come here," he said, walking to the bar, waving his hand for me to follow. I walked beside him, staring up at what I'd have to grip onto, noticing how it was in more of a square shape than circular that would cause the sharp corners to jab into my palm. As if on cue, Chris patted the metal, a hollow echo sounding off. "Okay, so you see, you have to be careful. Grip this wrong, and you're gonna hurt your hand, otherwise you should be fine."

I nodded, rubbing my palms together in preparation. "Okay, so I just flail, scream and simply stop when you say? Or am I missing something?" I asked, my eyes flickering between Chris and the bar.

He smiled, shaking his head. "Nope, sounds like you've just about got it. Ready?"

I smiled in response, taking up a ready position, causing him to laugh, along with some of the crew members. "Okay, hop on up there and we'll get rolling."

I nodded, trying to reach the bar, finding that I was just barely too sort so that I couldn't reach. A few people chuckled as I jumped and stretched. I finally gave up, able to feel a look of self-disappointment on my face. "I can't reach," I explained to Chris who chuckled. A familiar laugh burst out from my left. I rolled my eyes at Taylor.

"I figured as much. Hey, Taylor! We could use your muscles over here!" Chris joked, calling out to Taylor who had a faint blush under his tanned skin as he walked over to us. "If you could just lift her up, please?" he asked as Taylor's warm hands were quick, gripping my waist and holding me up to the bar. It was a little too fast, enough to where I had to rethink what I was doing. I finally remembered, after fumbling with my hands hopelessly, gripping the bar, which, just as I suspected, was uncomfortable to hold onto.

After hearing the word _action_, I screamed at the top of my lungs, seemingly hurting my throat in the process, kicking and flailing my legs about. Just as I could tell that Chris was about to call _cut_, my grip on the bar slipped, causing me to fall, landing flat on the mat below me, my back arching against it's surface in the process. I groaned at the impact before bursting into a fit of laughter, like I always did when I got hurt. I was soon joined in by the rest of the cast and crew. I rolled over to my side, catching Taylor's eye who was grinning uncontrollably, trying to hold back the laughter that built up in his chest, before finally letting it out, his unique laugh sounding like Grammy-winning music that wove itself thickly but delicately into the air.

I rolled my eyes, laying there for a moment longer before carefully getting up, straightening my shirt out with my chin tucked to my chest to watch what I was doing. "I knew that was gonna happen too . . ." I muttered, more to myself than anyone else.

I hadn't noticed anyone come up behind me until I heard an optimistic voice. "You okay there?" Taylor asked.

I huffed, nodding. "Help, again, please?" I pouted for a fraction of a second, thinking of my height disability, until his hands gripped me like last time, my feet suddenly off the ground. I grasped the bar, trying not to slip again.

To no avail, of course.

I slipped twice, actually.

Three times.

Four times.

Five.

Six.

_Thirteen _times. I could have sworn that sooner or later my wrists would just fall off, well, either _that _or I'd break my back why trying to do the simple stunt. I threw a victory punch into the air when we finally caught what we needed, my arm straining at the action from the stress that I'd caused it.

I caught Taylor's teasing grin as I headed off to my trailer.

* * *

I was stepping out of hair and make-up, my black jacket hanging open as my boots touched the dewy grass. I tried to avoid rubbing my eyes, a bit irritated because of the gray eye color contacts that I had to wear for the role, my own hazel eyes not matching Nora's physical description. I sighed, having wild, mixed emotions; today was the big kissing scene. Now, don't get me wrong, I'd always been a big fan of Taylor and had always thought that he was blindingly attractive, but over the past few weeks of filming, we'd grown close. To be honest, my fast friendship with him was beginning to rival mine with my goof-troop back home. Of course, that's a typical feeling to get when on a movie set; you feel like family, and then when everyone goes home, you never hear from one another again. Everyone always claims that they'll keep in touch, but they never really do. But due to the fact that I had four years of filming, plus promoting and whatever else was to come with Taylor, who knew how strong we could build this?

I was probably getting ahead of myself, but waved it off, smirking as Taylor walked up, his blinding smile lighting up his features. I chuckled. "Hey stranger."

"Hey, Lace," he murmured, being one of the few people who'd picked up on the nickname that my family used to call me. Even when my closest friends used it, it shot through me like a bullet, searing pain to my heart.

"What's up?" I asked, looking up at him.

He sighed. "You're lucky. You were about to be late to set, but there was some technical difficulties with the lens so we have some free time. They said it might be a few hours because there was something wrong with the chords too," he said, grinning. "Wanna go for a walk or something?"

I shrugged. "Sure."

He started to guide me down a damp, gravel pathway. "So . . ." he dragged in his happy voice. It was so _Taylor_. I almost chuckled to myself. "What did you do to procrastinate sleep last night?" he asked, gesturing to the bags under my eyes, which, thankfully, could be edited out of the shots.

I rolled my eyes. "Study. My English teacher's supposed to email me a test tomorrow, so I was cramming, because, well, you know how much I love to procrastinate. Of course, you help so much with that, thank you." I smirked sarcastically.

He grinned in response. "It's because I'm just such a great helper with things like that, it's just what friends do. If I were the one still in high school, I'm sure that you'd help to distract me from my work too, it's no problem," he teased.

I laughed, elbowing him. "So any special girls in your life? Eh? Eh?"

He rolled his eyes. "No, can't say there is. My ex has been texting me, but I don't know yet," he explained, poking my side. "What about you, Lacey, any special girls?" he asked, sarcasm heavy in his voice.

I chuckled at his lame joke. "Nope, sorry, Taylor, no special girls for me; I don't think that my boyfriend would like that too much," I said, grinning up at him.

I'd expected his typical, unique laugh to echo in my ears, but his expression staring down at me was unreadable. His typically humorous grin had turned into a hard line, twitching at the corners as if it didn't know what shape it wanted to take up, hid eyes fixed on nothing particular on my face, deep in thought.

"Taylor, Lacey!" one of our producers barked, Martha. She was a stout, middle aged woman with an attitude. To be honest, I'm not sure that Chris even liked her that much, she was just here for her creative ways and money, which was truly her point of being here, but still . . . She could shoot a smile every once in a while. "We're ready!"

Taylor blinked once before turning on his heel to begin a speed-walk towards her. I raised my eyebrow, following after him. "I thought it was gonna be a few hours?" he inquired.

"Fixed it early; they want you guys on set, we're about to start," Martha tucked a strand of thin, red hair behind her ear before jogging back in the direction that she came. Taylor didn't say another word until we began.

* * *

"Okay, you guys got it?" Christ asked both Taylor and I, his eyebrows raised after he'd finished explaining our scene.

My stomach jittered, my eyes anxiously darting around the shady-looking restroom that had been chosen to film in as our "movie theater restroom." The walls were unclean looking, the formerly white tiles on the walls yellowed while the grout that separated them had dirtied, an unsightly sandy brown color. The crew got creative and had written - in washable marker, of course - graffiti written on the sides of the sickly orange stalls, splattered some dirty water on the narrow mirrors that hung above worn sinks. They'd had success; it looked disgusting.

Ever since the brief walk with Taylor he'd been distant, alert, but still deep in thought, as if contemplating every move, taking each step with caution. He was hardly aware of the world around him.

Both of us nodded, our eyes sparing a fraction of a glance at one another, before flickering away so quickly that I wasn't even sure that it truly happened.

"Alright! Places, everyone!" Chris called over everyone who scurried to their designated or appropriate spots. Taylor went to the closed door where he was supposed to for this part. Not the entire scene in particular, but they wanted to make this specific part of it distinct, powerful, therefore, we'd be spending much more time on it.

"And . . ." Chris organized himself a bit more, before calling, "Action!"

Taylor looked up from the ground. "You have no idea what you do to me . . ."

I gulped.

He was suddenly right in front of me, his heady, deep gaze staring right through me while his left hand grasped my hip, the other cupping my cheek, angling my face upward until our lips were mere centimeters away. The distance minimized itself more and more until it was no more.

I stopped breathing.

I tried to keep my mind on a the broken track that constantly steered out of control. At first, I thought that it was simply the focus of the scene, the build up that climaxed at the start, holding it's place until the sudden falling action, but as his warm, soft lips crushed mine, I knew that this was more than simple focus. To me, it was method acting.

I was lifted off the ground, Taylor attempted to wrap my legs around him as Chris had instructed earlier. Of course, nobody's perfect and he accidentally fumbled, dropping me. My arms instinctively flew out to cling to his arm for support, but he'd reacted the same way, his hands flying out to catch me, but we only made contact in the most awkward of ways. His hand accidentally latched onto my breast, causing him to retract it as quick as if I'd electrocuted him, which to be honest, I was blushing so hard that there was a good chance that that could be exactly the case.

I risked a glance up at his face, his mouth in a small "O" of shock before a deep crimson started to reveal itself under is russet skin - something that I'd convinced myself that I'd _never _see. After locking wide eyes with him for a moment we both burst into laughter, me taking advantage of my butt already being on the ground and laying back, rubbing my face as I thought over what had just happened.

After assuring themselves that there was no conflict over the major blooper, the rest of the crew joined in, the sound of meshed laughter echoing through the dimly-restroom. Once I'd finished rolling around, Taylor helped me up - carefully gripping my elbow this time - shooting me an apologetic smile. I was still laughing, of course, we exchanged an awkward apology with our eyes as he went back to the door and tried to compose his features.

***Ten Minutes Later***

We finally mastered our expressions and could start again.

The kiss started off much the same as the first, a burning on my lips while his hands made themselves to my waist, gripping my hips tightly.

He gently but swiftly lifted me off the ground - successfully this time - pulling my legs around his waist as I fastened them in an unbreakable hold, while he pressed my back up against the hard, icy wall, pressing closer to me eagerly. I was so wrapped up in the best onscreen kiss that I'd ever had that I completely forgot about the entire crew watching us awkwardly, acting as if they didn't have to witness this. I forgot that he was probably one of the best friends that I could have asked for. I even - nearly - forgot to do the one detail that Taylor was already starting to add.

A wave of awkwardness crept into the back of my mind as I trailed my hands down his chest, all the way down until I could feel his abs through his thin, long-sleeved tee, and lower yet. I could have swore that I felt him jump under me, but it wasn't enough to interrupt the kiss which he suddenly broke to begin a trail of kisses down my neck, nipping lightly as suddenly a hand gripped my ass. If my eyes had been open, I was sure that the shock and surprise could have been plainly read then them.

Regardless of where they were, his lips sent something through me, only firing up my hormones even more. They held some sort of urgency, as if trying to be convincing, persuading, testing me in a way that I craved. For a split second Adam's face flickered in my mind, trying to get an important message across that I never received; it was gone as soon as it had come.

I tilted my head back, allowing him full access of my neck to complete a rotation of kisses down my neck, across my collarbone, and back again, until something buzzed in my pocket - something that we'd actually placed there so that both Taylor and I would stop at the same time.

Taylor pulled away for a second, his eyes boring into me, shaking his head. "Don't answer it," he murmured in a gruff voice, trying to close the distance.

I ignored the hormonal teenage girl inside of me that screamed to grant him the false desire, turning my face away and reaching my hand down towards my pocket.

"Cut!" Chris called, causing both of us to jump. I bit my lip, trying not to catch Taylor's eye. The air between us seem to grow thick, whereas before it seemed to get thinner until I was gasping for air - which I had been.

He put me down softly so I wouldn't fall, smiling halfheartedly before walking away quickly, faster than a casual stroll.

I stared after him for a moment. Chris's voice distracted me from thought. "Alright guys, be back here in four hours."

There were several murmurs about where to go for lunch and about the weather plans, and things going on around the set. I could hear a few people mumbling about the scene, but I tried to ignore those.

There was a tap on my shoulder.

I spun around, startled, breathing a sigh of relief when it was just Abigail holding out my HTC EVO 3D. Her light eyebrows her furrowed, her eyes glinting a sympathy. "You got a message . . . I think you should read it."

I took the phone cautiously, unlocking it timidly.

It was an already opened - thanks to Abi - multimedia text from Keira.

My jaw dropped at the image.

* * *

**A/N: Review/comment? :D**

**Psst . . .psst. If you like how Taylor was in their "scene" tell me! (There is obviously gonna be off-Taylor scenes like that. :P) I may just have to add another one of those somewhere. ;)**

**NOTE: PLEEEEEAAAAASSSSEEEEEEE check out my new roleplay, we're just getting our feet off the ground! It's simply an RP about an average high school that you can make your own! Drama, romance, fights, breakups, events, hell - even teacher/student relationships are allowed! (in secret, anyway, because that's technically illegal) *LEMONS ALLOWED* Come join the fun! :D**


	5. Chapter 5: Special

**A/N: I am so deeply sorry about not updating! I haven't had the time or right state of mind to type, and finally I just sat my pro-procrastinating ass down and just finished the chapter. It's not the longest or the best, but it was very meaningful.**

**Please R&R, and enjoy! :D**

* * *

**Chapter 5: Special**

_There was a tap on my shoulder._

_I spun around, startled, breathing a sigh of relief when it was just Abigail holding out my HTC EVO 3D. Her light eyebrows her furrowed, her eyes glinting a sympathy. "You got a message . . . I think you should read it."_

_I took the phone cautiously, unlocking it timidly._

_It was an already opened - thanks to Abi - multimedia text from Keira._

_My jaw dropped at the image._

* * *

Adam and a girl from school, Anastasia Millar, were lip-locked in a tight embrace. Her long, toned legs straddled his lap, while her tanned arms locked like a vise around his neck and his hands twined themselves again and again into her thick blonde hair.

I blinked, unsure of how to react as I ran out of the crowded restroom, finding a blocked off hallway, not thinking twice before bolting down it. The walls were concrete with one door at the other, probably part of a staff-only wing but the theatre was closed anyway so I doubted that I'd get in trouble. I leaned against the wall, sliding my back down it until I'd sunk to the ground, my butt touching the cold, hard floor.

I didn't cry. I just stared at spot on the wall, thinking over what I had just seen. To be honest, I wasn't sure that I even felt bad about it. I wasn't depressed, I wasn't angry; just stunned. Stunned that someone would have the nerve to do that to another human being, stunned that I had to find out in the most rotten of timing.

But not remotely depressed.

I thought of Adam, how his cropped, dirty blonde hair flipped a little in the front, how his dark blue eyes seemed to stare right into your soul. I supposed that it took someone a lot more sensitive, a lot less selfish to see one's soul, Adam more or less stared right through you, replacing the image in front of him with what he wished to see. I didn't really see how I'd ever been attracted to him, or _if _I ever even was. He was quite unattractive, really, now that I thought about it. Nice enough, but not worth holding onto. He had too much growing up to do, something that I was forced to do a few years too soon.

My head automatically turned when I heard someone passing the entrance that I had come through to get to this hall. Taylor was staring at the ground as he walked, a slightly dead expressing warring down his usually cheery features. I turned back to the wall as he passed, too lazy to follow.

Turns out that I didn't need to. "Lacey?" He took a few steps back, his eyebrow raised. "Erm . . . What are you doing?"

I shrugged. "Nothing."

He stared at me for a moment. "You're sitting in a hallway."

"I was aware of that, thank you," I murmured, looking up at him.

He chuckled, sitting next to me, his face lightening up a bit at the sound. "Come on, what is it?" he asked. Unlike most guys, Taylor pushed to get down to the bottom of this annoying habit that we girls can't seem to kick. We say _I'm fine _and _nothing _to cover for anything that's not all bright and happy. I've learned to not milk it around guys who don't bother to dig a little deeper, not that I don't blame them. What reason have we given them that says that they should waste their time trying to get us to say what we so desperately want to say. We're attention seekers, really, but, it comes generation to generation, and, much to my dismay, will not stop any time soon.

I sighed, shaking my head. "My boyfriend . . . He cheated . . ." I shrugged.

_Silence_.

"And I don't even feel bad," I continued, looking down.

I felt his gaze on my face. "You can't be serious."

I nodded, not moving my eyes. "I _am _serious.

A groan. "_Lace_. You forgive too easily."

"No, I mean it! I don't think that I even liked him!" I defended, shifting onto my knees as I looked at his slightly annoyed face.

"The most important thing in a relationship is loyalty, Lacey. You can't make excuses for him."

I shook my head. "Taylor, just listen to me for a moment. I never liked him. He was an absurd, arrogant, selfish asshole who wanted nothing more than a higher social status, and I knew this the whole time. I just . . . I don't know. I haven't been with someone in so long, I guess that I . . . I don't know," I murmured, slouching against the wall again.

"I understand," he murmured. "It's hard to know who to trust when you get put into this sort of . . . _Class_, so to speak. I get it."

I fiddled with my fingers, pretending to push back my cuticles. "Is it sad that I saw it coming . . . And didn't even _try _to stop it?" I asked in a small voice.

"Yes," He admitted, a grin on his lips. "But you're _seventeen_. You're entitled to a few mistakes now and then."

_Seventeen_.

God, Taylor, don't remind me.

"Hey, you're still pretty young yourself," I argued, smirking up at him. "You're only twenty."

"True, but when _I _was seventeen, _you _were still in a training bra," he grinned, nudging my elbow.

I thought. "I was so _not _in a training bra at fourteen years old. You know nothing of the female development," I teased, laughing as I shoved him.

"So? I'm a virgin, how much do you expect me to know?" He laughed.

Gross.

"Eww, Taylor, that was something that I was hoping would _never _going to slip out of your mouth, at least not in front of _me_," I whined, putting my head in my hands.

Another laugh. "Well, would you rather me tell you that, or that I'd already been deflowered? Come on, my family is one of hardcore Catholics." I could hear the smug smirk in his tone.

I covered my ears with my hands, shaking my head. "Shut up, shut up, shut up! La, la, la! I can't hear you!"

His musical, unique laughter filled the short hallway. "Relax, you know that I'm not that perverted."

"Oh, you are, you're _more _than capable, I know you are; you're just modest about it," I smirked, laughing.

He grinned, nodding approvingly. "Alright, I guess that works." He sighed, looking at his hands. "So have you talked to him about it yet?"

I shook my head. "I don't think I want to."

"Lace, be mature about this."

I raised my eyebrows at him. "_Me _be mature? You're the one who wanted to beat his freaking ass earlier!"

"Be serious," he murmured, shooting me a look.

"Be serious, mature, blah, blah, blah," I muttered.

Taylor groaned, getting up. "Please tell me that you're at least going to end it with this douche?"

I nodded, rolling my eyes. "I can handle myself."

He rested a hand on my shoulder, starting to lead me out of the hallway. "I'm just looking out for you."

"I'm fine," I muttered, shrugging his hand off as I stalked out of the hallway, suddenly self conscious.

I didn't need anyone looking out for me. If I did, then I wouldn't have chosen emancipation over having a new legal guardian. I'd gotten this far without having someone on my heels the whole time, I wasn't going to let a little bit of laid-back laziness screw me over. I knew that I was being a bitch to Taylor, know that he meant well . . . But everyone that I cared about always ended up hurt in the end. I hoped that if he didn't get so close to me, that he wouldn't have the same result.

* * *

A few hours later in my trailer Abi was going off about tomorrow's agenda. "You have hair and makeup tomorrow at four, right before your day-long interview with MTV." She shot me a look. "Which means that you need a good night's sleep, not to be texting until one A.M."

I pouted. "I'm just keeping up with what's going on back home, that's all."

"And they can tell you all about it later, when you're not supposed to be getting beauty rest. Lacey, do you understand how important it is that you do what I say?"

I nodded, swallowing.

"Good." She sighed, sitting on the edge of my bed where I sat with my knees tucked close to my chest. "Look, Lace . . . I know that it's difficult, especially at your age, to have such a transition in life. Most teenagers your age are fighting with their parents on a daily basis, have an after school job, see their friends almost every day, hell, they might even be underage binge drinking." She chuckled, reaching out to touch my arm. "And then there's you, working full time, not to mention for months at a time, attending only a fraction of her school year and having to make the rest up in your minimal spare time, seeing your friends only every few months, if that, emancipated and disowned too young . . . You have a lot more pressure on your shoulders than any child should. Now, no, you're not a child . . . But, honey . . . you're not an adult, at least you shouldn't be, not yet. You started off with an ordinary life and were suddenly thrust into a world where adults became your peers, your colleagues. I want you to be able to have random sleepovers with your friends, I want you to be able to walk through your high school gymnasium in a cap and gown on graduation day with all the rest of your classmates . . . But unfortunately, I can't do that for you. Remember that you chose this, you're the one who wanted to tackle your dreams with all that you had."

"Because they _are _all that I have," I whispered, resting my chin on my arms, wrapped around my legs.

She smiled gently. "Exactly. Your dreams are all that you have, which is exactly why I'm not willing to let you give up on them. You've come this far after such little time, you have chances and potential that most people couldn't even dream of having. I know that it's hard to let go of everything in your life, and you don't have to. . .but there's some things that do, however have to be let go of. There's going to be friends that might not support you. There's going to be people who try to take advantage of you. There's going to be battles that no one sees coming, and you know what? You just have to keep on pushing through. I just hope that you'll accept the many flaws that come with this goal that you're working so hard to achieve."

I nodded for what seemed like to be the millionth time.

"You're special, Lacey. Don't forget it. You're here for a reason. If I didn't believe that, then we wouldn't be here right now," she added.

"It's just . . . I wasn't ever normal before, I wasn't ever normal after my family died, and I'm even more abnormal now . . . I just don't want to lose touch with who I was before I have to leave her behind." I sniffed.

"Honey," she murmured, wiping away a tear from my cheek that I hadn't realized had fallen. "You left that girl behind a long time ago. You just didn't know it yet."


End file.
